He's my brother
by Firedragon87
Summary: This is my idea of what i wanted to happen between the brothers after "Family Matters". Just a little tiny bit of almost-schmoop and if you squint really really hard you might see a tiny bit of the old Sam .. Hope you enjoy !


**_Authors note: Not mine obviously ... I don't think I'd want to share if they were ! ;)_**

_**Authors note 2 : Yes this was written before **__**"All dogs go to Heaven"**__** but its my head and this is how I wanted it to go ! I had help with editing for this story, its the main thing that I worry about with my work and I really appreciate one of my friends taking the time out of her life to go over this for me ! Thanks Deb ! *smishes you * :) If you want to comment or if you see any glaring things that we have missed please point them out - Im still just working things out and I love to hear from people - so thanks for reading guys and I hope you enjoy ! xx**_

He's my brother

It had been three days, _three nights_ since Cas had confirmed Dean's worst fears, that something was seriously wrong with Sam. That his soul was gone. He hadn't really slept yet, mostly because they've been dealing with Samuel and the mess with the Alpha Vampire – not to mention the revelations that came along with that, which made Dean's week even better.

Now, not only did he have to worry about his little brother's soul being missing from the party, but he also had to worry about Crowley blackmailing them to get it back. He got to be a demon's _bitchboy_ – when he had promised himself after Hell that he would never be a demon's puppet again.

They hadn't stuck around after Crowley disappeared, not because they had a case or even a definite direction to head in, but because Dean did his best thinking in the Impala, where the miles of asphalt steadily gave way beneath the rubber.

They ended up at a gas station the next morning, one of those old run down places with an attendant who probably lived in the trailer out back of the little shop. Sam was looking out the passenger window and didn't seem interested in anything going on around them. Hell, as far as Dean could tell he didn't seem much of anything. Even so, they hadn't eaten since yesterday and even if he didn't sleep, he probably still needed to eat, right? ''Ya hungry?" he nodded in the direction of the shop.

Sam glanced towards the shop, paused a minute or so in that new way of his, like he was considering what the words meant before answering "Yeah, I'll just have whatever you're having".

Dean choked back a laugh, not that anything was funny. Sam wanting to eat whatever processed crap that Dean was gonna eat. Damn, he shoulda realized that something was really wrong long before now, his health food '_can i get extra salad with that'_ brother would never just "_have what you're having"_. Dean turned and walked towards the shop – but then, that wasn't his little brother was it? And that wasn't the entire problem.

SPN*SPN*SPN

It was mid-afternoon before Sam decided he had to speak up. Three times in the past half-hour alone, the car had started to drift across the lane, with the last time almost placing them directly in the path of a big rig "Dean, if you crash the car and kill us both, my soul is never going to get out of the pit."

Dean's head jerked up and his foot hit the brake, at least as much out of surprise as reflex, it was the first time since this morning that Sam had spoken and Dean realized that he hadn't thought that he would say anything. Especially "wait … did you just suggest that I'm not in _perfect_ control of the car?"

Sam gestured to the cars behind them that had been forced to slam on their brakes when Dean did, as _another_ horn blast sounded from somewhere behind them.

Looking in the rear vision mirror, Dean noticed the queue of cars and swearing under his breath, he switched on the indicator as he pulled to the grassy roadside. He parked and turned the engine off before turning to Sam again. "How far are we from the next motel?"

Sam pulled out his phone, now that they were now close enough to civilization they should have some reception. He checked the display and, sure enough had three bars. He quickly pulled up the map function service he had paid extra for when he got the phone. "About half an hour, if you're driving". He didn't suggest Dean let him drive, he might not have '_any instincts'_ like Dean had told him, but he had all of his memories, and he knew what Dean would say to him if he tried to get him out of the driver's seat now.

Dean nodded, there was no way that he was letting Sam drive the Impala, he just wouldn't let him or _trust _him to_, _"Ok, then". Making sure the road was clear; he pulled out onto the highway. All the traffic they slowed down had dispersed since they were able to get back to a normal speed.

Around 45 minutes later, they pulled into the motel carpark, due to a slight mix-up with directions. Well, it had actually been Dean taking the wrong off-ramp from the highway which meant they'd had to turn around and backtrack.

Sam got out of the car easily, as if having his 6'4" frame trapped inside a car for 12 hours hadn't made him stiff, and hell Dean wasn't even sure, could you still get a backache when you had no soul? He was half way towards the reception office, before Dean had even gotten out of the car. Wondering if this meant he was feeling his age, Dean stopped to stretch his back before heading to the trunk to get the gear.

It was a pretty standard room, decorated in what could have been referred to as a sort of _'prison chic' _although why you would want to decorate a room in shades of gray with orange accents, Dean just couldn't figure. He paused in the doorway for a few more moments while Sam was already in the room spreading out his satchel and laptop on a small table in the corner. Something just seemed wrong about the room that he couldn't immediately figure out. It quickly dawned on him, though, as he stepped into the room, pulling the door closed behind him "Uh…Sam?"

Sam glanced up from where he was logging into the internet, they had lucked into a motel that was provided free wi-fi. "Yeah, Dean?"

"We seem to be missing something" Dean was still only a few feet into the room, bag still on his shoulder.

Sam looked around as well "They didn't have any rooms with kitchenette's…"

"No Sam. There's only _one _bed, where's the other bed?

"We only need one bed remember, Dean? I don't sleep, and it's cheaper to get a room with just a double so I saved us some money". Obviously considering the conversation over, Sam turned back to the computer, pulling up some local news sites.

Dean's eyebrows had risen into his forehead, 'What had the person at the reception desk thought'? He pinched the top of his nose hard for a few moments when he decided 'screw it' and that he didn't care what anybody thought, Sam obviously didn't need the bed and he was too tired to argue that they spend more money and move their stuff. He dropped his duffle by the foot of the bed and stretched himself out on the mattress, he was just gonna rest his eyes for a minute or two before he thought about a shower and getting some food for dinner... Just for a minute.

SPN*SPN*SPN

When Dean opened his eyes again the room was dark, he groaned quietly to himself, so much for '_just closing his eyes'_. He sat up slowly, didn't want to risk the head spin he sometimes got when he mixed too much sleep and not enough food.

He was sitting upright before he realized he had been stripped of both his boots and jacket, and that there was a blanket crumpled next to him which looked like he had thrown it off while he slept.

The overhead lights were off but he could see just see with the almost blue-tinged light coming from the laptop on the table. As he reached for the lamp fixed to the wall above the bed, he saw the glass of water and the two familiar looking small Tylenol tablets next to it.

The light as it flooded from the lamp made him shield his eyes and he realized, somewhat ruefully that he could probably use the drugs for the headache _he_ obviously hadn't noticed was coming on.

As he swallowed them he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling up outside the door. _Sonovabitch _he hadn't even thought about checking where the car was, the front door of the room pushed open and Sam stepped through the door with two amazing smelling bags in hand.

Sam looked straight over towards the bed where Dean was still sat "Hey, I was just getting some food, figured you would probably be hungry"

Rather than waiting for a response, Sam went over to the table and began clearing his things into a corner. When he was done, he flicked his gaze over to Dean for a second "I got you a bacon double cheeseburger, apparently it's the diner specialty, so I got one too"

Dean looked at the food on the table, then over to the man sitting quietly on the far side of the table, already biting into his burger. This wasn't the brother that he was used to,_ a man with no soul_. He was far too quiet, _a man_ _who ate like Dean did_, with his lack of emotions, well Dean wasn't sure he could ever get used to that. For all those differences though, here was the same brother who made sure that Dean was comfortable when he fell asleep still wearing his boots. The same brother that made sure to set out the drugs Dean would otherwise forget to take, or deny he needed. The brother who, whether Dean wanted to admit it or not, got him to stop driving and rest when he would have tried to just keep going.

Maybe he wasn't the brother that Dean wanted with him in this fight, _needed with him,_ but maybe he still was _his_ brother - and for now, that felt so much better than nothing.

Dean got up and walked over to the table "You better not have forgotten the extra pickles"

Sam swallowed his mouthful before answering "Have I _ever_ forgotten them?"

Dean was quiet for a minute before mumbling "Bitch" into his first bite

Sam looked at him for a long moment before he answered "Jerk". Dean nearly choked on his mouthful and yet, somehow, he found that he didn't mind a bit.


End file.
